


drunk dial

by civillove



Series: plans wrapped in rubber bands [14]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Soft Rio (Good Girls), drunk beth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 22:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18882289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: Prompt: Beth signing divorce papers + drunk!beth and Rio having to deal with it--Annie snorts, passing the shots out. “This was my plan; when’s the last time any of us really let loose?”It’s rhetorical, Beth knows it’s rhetorical, and yet, “Probably when I let a gang leader tear off my panties in a bathroom.”Ruby’s eyes grow as wide as saucers and then comes the laughter, even from Annie, “Did he keep them?”





	drunk dial

**Author's Note:**

> Again, overwhelmed by consistent feedback. Thank you! I’m not sure what direction this series is going or how long it’ll be, I just work with prompts that I get and see what fits best to continue their story. In saying that, I really appreciate everyone hopping on this train with me so far! Enjoy.

Beth never plans on getting drunk, it’s kind of one of those things she tries to avoid because her hangovers are usually terrible. It doesn’t matter what she’s drinking: wine, bourbon, or mixed drinks (because she’s really not a fan of beer), she always ends up with a splitting headache and nausea that forces her into bed for half of the day.

She actually didn’t plan on going to the bar at all tonight but Annie and Ruby had dragged her out of the house in the middle of a girl’s night. She has black jeggings on and a mustard colored sweater and she’s pretty sure her shoes don’t match but the more she drinks the less that becomes a problem.

Annie brings another trio of shots to their small table, the bar packed tight with people on a Friday night. Beth covers her face with her hands because God, _no,_ not another round. The music feels like it’s pulsing along with her heartbeat, getting faster and faster and she passed tipsy an hour ago after her third bourbon and two (three?) rounds of shots.

“Guys, I _drove,_ this is was not supposed to be the plan.”

“Beth, you’re talking into your hands again.” Ruby states with a short laugh, picking up another onion ring to eat because of course food was a must—she hoped it would help balance out the alcohol but it’s not doing much of that.

She huffs and pulls her hands away from her face, repeating herself.

Annie snorts, passing the shots out. “This was _my_ plan; when’s the last time any of us really let loose?”

It’s rhetorical, Beth _knows_ it’s rhetorical, and yet, “Probably when I let a gang leader tear off my panties in a bathroom.”

Ruby’s eyes grow as wide as saucers and then comes the laughter, even from Annie, “Did he _keep them?”_

Beth giggles but doesn’t respond, instead she clinks glasses with them and takes her shot. The liquor is cheap and terrible, burning her throat on the way down. She smacks the bottom of the glass off the table as she sets it down, shaking her head because _ugh,_

“Alright enough men talk.” She says, “We need more mozzarella sticks.”

“Or panties.” Ruby mentions but it’s kind of late, her cheeks are flushed a pretty pink that really highlights the lipstick she has on and Annie throws her hands up.

“We should at least toast!”

“No,” Beth shakes her head, but Annie’s already disappearing towards the bar. She lets her go, leaning her elbows onto the table and scrunching her nose because her sweater sticks to something on the wood surface.

“We should really have a girl’s trip.” Ruby says, her voice is mellow and thoughtful. She pillows her chin against the palm of her hand as she takes a look at Beth. “We could bring the kids, no men.”

“No men.” Beth echoes, licking her lips. “A trip that doesn’t involve crime would be nice too.”

Ruby laughs, even though it’s not all that funny and bumps their shoulders together. “Added bonus.”

By the time Annie returns, Ruby is spinning Beth in a half circle to the sway of the music (they are terribly off beat and Beth has to duck under Ruby’s arm because of the height difference) and Annie’s mouth is a wide ‘O’.

“I can’t believe you started dancing without me, just send me to do all the work.”

Beth chokes out a laugh, grabbing onto the table to balance herself when Ruby lets go of her hand. “ _You_ wanted a toast.”

“Oh and I got pretzels.” She scrunches her nose at them. “I don’t remember ordering, I think I took them off a dude at the bar who wasn’t paying attention.”

Ruby grabs one of them anyways and shrugs her shoulder, Beth taking a mozzarella stick and burning her tongue on too hot cheese as she shoves it into her mouth. Annie picks up her shot and passes them to the others, the glasses small this time with a dark color liquid sloshing over the rims.

Beth scrunches her nose and knows this is already a bad idea but part of her knows it’s too late. She’s drunk, eating too much fried food, and the hangover is going to be particularly painful—so she might as well enjoy the buzz while it lasts.

Ruby lifts her glass and Annie copies, mozzarella stick still hanging out of her mouth. “To Beth’s freedom!”

She rolls her eyes and squeezes her shot glass a little too tightly, her feet swaying as she keeps her balance. The emotions inside of her are swirling down from her chest and into her stomach like some sort of weird funnel. She’s happy about this, really she is (isn’t she?) but…she can’t help but think that there's a chapter closing in her life and she’s not sure whether she's done with the book or not.

But that’s not a discussion for tonight.

She clinks her shot glass against the other’s and the minute she swallows down the alcohol, her stomach protests wildly. She finds herself pouting because she really wants another mozzarella stick…but even in her dense fog of being drunk she knows better than to push her body when it’s telling her no. The concept of _carpe noctem_ was so appealing until now.

“Okay, I gotta go.” And immediately the girls start to protest.

“Oh come on, one more drink!” Annie pouts and hugs her around her waist, Ruby smushing her from the other side.

Beth laughs softly and squeezes both of them, nuzzling her nose into Annie’s hair. “No, God, if I have another drink I’m gonna fall over. You two can stay, I have to get home.”

Dean’s home with the kids and her entire body rejects the idea of going back but she has to face reality at some point, she can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist. At least she’s not being super secretive about doing a drop or deal and coming home with that _expression_ that Dean can always seem to read through.

She pulls back from them and kisses both their cheeks, Annie scrunching her nose and rubbing at it like she’s made some sort of lipstick stain.

“And here I was just about to table dance.”

Ruby laughs and claps in encouragement and Beth shakes her head, “Well now I _know_ I have to go.” She teases and takes a step back from them, almost bumping into a waitress carrying drinks. “I’m calling an Uber, you two—”

“Stan’ll get us,” Ruby pats Beth’s head. “Don’t worry.”

Annie waves and suction cups herself to Ruby’s side, saying something about chicken wings and Ruby’s eyes grow wide and excited, clearly on board. Beth grins and turns to walk out, focusing on her footing to get herself outside without stumbling too terribly.

She lets out a sigh when the cool night air brushes against the heat of her skin. Beth tries to give herself a checklist to complete in order to get home: 1) call Uber, 2) avoid Dean, 3) kiss her kids, 4) crawl into bed… wait, 3.5) undress, 4) crawl into bed.

The first step should be getting her phone out or, even better, getting the parking lot to stop spinning. She leans against the brick wall to the right of the entrance to the bar, tipping her head back a moment and concentrating so she doesn’t do something stupid like spin onto the ground. When she finally feels confident enough to open her eyes, she gets her phone out and puts in her passcode incorrectly twice before the home screen pops up.

She squints, chewing on her lower lip as she looks for her Uber app.

And then…

And then pauses because despite not wanting to talk about men, all she can suddenly think about is Rio. She hates how attractive he is, all lean built and warm, tan skin, walking around like he invented button-down shirts. She can’t stop thinking about his hands; how they wrap around a glass, or his gun, settle on her hips, her neck, trail down the side of her face. She smells his skin, musky cologne that’s probably expensive and has hints of cedar, mixed with laundry detergent. The scruff on his jawline that brushes against her face when they kiss or between her legs when he—

She squirms a little and shakes her head, punching numbers into her phone and.

“Yo.”

Beth blanks because she didn’t think he’d actually pick up. “Hi.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone, brief shuffling. She wonders where he is, if he’s at home or out doing criminal related things. “Hi.”

She balloons her cheeks out and a noise escapes her lips when she lets the air out. “Hi.” Has she said that already? She looks up at the sky; a clear night, lots of stars which is a good sign—it won’t rain tomorrow. She’s so tired of rain.

The bricks are uncomfortable against her back but it’s solid at least and when she’s not moving, she doesn’t feel like she’s going to fall over or trip over her own feet. Rio’s doing something on the other end of the phone call, she can hear papers moving and then a door closing.

“Are you…” He trails off a moment and then there’s amusement wrapping around his words. “Are you drunk dialin’ me?”

She grins and puts her fist to the sky for some reason, most likely because he guessed correctly, and a soft giggle escapes her lips, “Yessss.”

Rio’s smiling, she can tell when he says, “How absolutely scandalous, Elizabeth. What would the PTA moms think?”

“Probably something gluten free.” She’s briefly aware that makes no sense but she doesn’t care, “I didn’t plan on getting so…drunk.”

Rio hums, letting a soft sigh out of his lips and she closes her eyes to picture where he is. Sitting down somewhere maybe, a warehouse that’s too cold or the driver’s seat of his car. She wants him to be dressed in a maroon t-shirt, the color delicious against his skin, highlighting his tattoos and darkening the color of his eyes.

“Did you plan on callin’ me?”

She makes a noise that sounds too much like a soft moan, “Probably; your lips are so nice.”

He smirks and then she hears keys jingle, “I’ve been told.”

While Beth didn’t bring her purse, solid choice, she does have her wallet which is digging into her waist as she leans against the brick wall. She lets out a soft huff and moves to take it out, the leather fumbling out of her hands and onto the pavement.

“Fuck.” She bends over to get it, quickly closing her eyes as the everything spins again. Not a good idea, not good at all. Beth grabs onto the wall to steady herself, a short breath leaving her lips when she picks up her wallet and puts it in the front pocket of her jeggings.

“You’re not about to drive are you?” He asks and it takes her a moment to respond because she’s too busy pouting over the fact that her wallet is too big for her front pocket and it’s sticking awkwardly out, stabbing her in the torso.

It’s good enough for now as she straightens her back to stand and holds onto the wall again, letting her eyes close as she leans her shoulder into the brick.

“Nope,” She pops her ‘p’, “Needed some air; Annie was about to table dance.”

She can hear the gentle purr of his engine starting; definitely in a car then okay. She chews on her lower lip, the music from inside the bar floating outside every so often, making her hips sway.

“Can’t believe you’re missin’ out on that sight,” Rio teases, making her roll her eyes. “Where are you?”

“The bar.” She states, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He’s being incredibly patient with her and she can picture him running his hand along his jawline as he drives, so clear an image that it feels like she can reach out and touch him. “Which bar?”

“ _The_ bar,” She repeats and then she covers the receiver of the phone and whispers but she must not be doing it right because people who are outside smoking turn to look at her, “You know the one. Our bar, the _sex_ one.”

Rio snorts out a small laugh, “Oh that one. Sit tight, mami.”

She frowns and looks around because there isn’t anywhere to sit, not really, and she’s about to tell him so when the gentle beeping of her phone tells her he’s hung up. Beth frowns at her screen, moving to stick her phone into her back pocket as she runs a hand through her hair. Well, that was a waste.

Sitting sounds good; maybe after she sits for a few minutes her head will feel like it’s on a little straighter and she can call an Uber to get home. Beth wanders to the curb and sits too fast, probably bruising her tailbone but the world isn’t as spinny as before so she considers it a win. She puts her head in her hands, taking in a slow deep breath and letting it out of her lips.

“Okay, good job.” She tells herself, straightening her back.

Beth pulls her phone out and drops it, glaring at it like it’s somehow betrayed her when a sleek black car drives up in front of her. She knows that car and when the driver door opens, Rio gets out, his eyes instantly finding hers as she looks up. Rio’s _here_ and she tries not to feel disappointed that he’s not dressed in the imaginary maroon she made him up in.  

“Black again?” She says and it’s mostly to herself but he’s smiling, amusement pulling at the corners of his mouth.

He crouches in front of her so that they’re more eyelevel and she can’t stop the goofy grin that’s threatening to take over her whole face. “I’ll remember that when you’re tryin’ to borrow one of my jackets.”

It’s so good to see him; her stomach flutters at his proximity and she reaches out to touch him just because she can, her hands coming down onto his knees. “What are you doing here?” Her speech is lazy, kind of tired, but she keeps her gaze on his eyes.

Rio smiles a little, licks his lips as he considers her a moment, “You called me.”

She blinks…oh right, she did do that. “Did you wanna get a drink?” Beth asks because their bar is right here and even if Ruby and Annie are still inside they could…do that. How weird would that feel? Would it even work? She tries to picture it for a moment; Rio holding onto her hips as she orders him a whiskey, neat, pulling Annie off of bar stools when she tries to table dance, maybe playing darts.

Feels so ordinary, too domestic, too normal. She’s not sure he could fit into her life like she’s starting to fit into his.

“Nah, just came to see you,” He takes her hands into his, “Come on.”  

He stands and tugs her up from the sidewalk; she manages to be alright on her own for a few moments until the back of her ankles hit the curb and throws her off balance. Rio’s arm wraps around her, steadying her, reaching down to pick up her phone to slide into his back pocket.

She sighs loudly as he guides her to the car, her hand fisting the material of his shirt on his side. “I’m not much of a sight,” She says, a little loudly, scrunching her nose at her feet because since when did one foot in front of the other become so difficult? “Got mom jeggings on. Mustard.”

She’s talking about her sweater but luckily Rio makes the connection easy, “It’s a nice color on you, ma, watch your head.” He opens up the passenger door and places his palm on the crown of her hair so she doesn’t bump her forehead off the car frame. So nice of him, really.

Beth leans back into the seat, her eyes instantly closing as he buckles her in. She wants to hold onto him, tell him not to leave but she distantly knows that’s silly because he needs to be able to drive the car. Her nails dig into the palms of her hands as he shuts the door, a few moments later the driver’s door doing the same thing as he begins to drive.

“So girl’s night out, huh?” He says a few moments later and Beth purses her lips.

She needs to open her eyes as he drives, too dizzy, needs to focus on something strong and constant so she doesn’t get carsick. Beth sits a little straighter in her seat and stares at the dashboard.

“Wasn’t planned.”

She can see him smile out of the corner of her eye, and she finds herself mirroring it, blush kissing her cheeks. He shrugs his one shoulder, “Think I kinda like you like this, little more loose. You smile easier.”

Beth turns a little in her seat, playing with the ends of her hair. “Maybe you should just work on making me smile more.”

Rio stops at a red light, his jaw working a little as his eyes trace her face. He reaches over and trails a finger down the side of her face, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe I should.” He agrees before he has to pull back and drive.

Beth hums and rights herself in the seat, pulling on the seatbelt a little to tighten it against her waist. Rotating thoughts start entering her mind, one bouncing to the other as she thinks about texting Ruby and Annie that she’s getting home okay, that she has to go home, that Dean will be there, that their kids will be in bed like everything’s fine and—and that she knows a divorce is the right thing and part of her is scared while another part is exhilarated and another part is thinking about how much they have to do and what if Dean gets complete custody over the kids and that’s too many parts to be thinking about all at once.

“Dean asked for a divorce.” She blurts out, a wall of emotion hitting her and she should have known better than to try and talk about this right know because she’s got two versions of drunk: snuggly and emotional and it seems like the latter is winning because she begins to cry.

It’s not ugly sobbing at least but she’s still got tears coursing down her cheeks and she’s trying to hide it from Rio by looking out the window but of course he sees it.

“Are you cryin’ because you’re happy or upset?”

Beth sniffles, shaking her head as she wipes off her cheek. “I’m crying because I’m _drunk.”_

He snorts out an amused sound and reaches in front of her to open the glove compartment, handing her a few tissues. She takes them and quickly dabs at her eyes, letting her hair fall to curtain her face. His hand then settles on her back, his thumb rubbing along her neck in a soothing manner while he drives with one hand.

“God, I’m sorry,” She chokes out after a few moments, crumbling up the tissue into her hand, cheeks red as she avoids his gaze. “You didn’t have to pick me up, I’m sure this is not what you thought your night was going to look like.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, “I think you know me well enough by now that I’m not talked into a lot of things; if I don’t wanna do somethin’ I don’t.”

He squeezes the muscles of her back before letting his hand slip free, returning it to the steering wheel. Beth closes her eyes, hoping the next time she opens them that she’ll be home and ready to wash her memory of this car ride. She’s not as sober as she wants to be when the car stops but she should be able to go inside and upstairs with minimal damage until her hangover tomorrow morning.

Beth runs a hand over her face and opens her eyes as the engine turns off and it takes her longer than it should to register the fact that they are not outside her house. A brick building with evergreen accents.

Her mouth goes dry, “This is your place.”

Rio draws his lower lip into his mouth and looks out at the building before looking at her, “Last time I checked.”

“Did you want me to sleep in the car?”

He smiles and shakes his head, amusement making his eyes warm. “Not unless you want to.” He gets out, rounding the front to open up the passenger door.

It takes her a moment to click the seatbelt free because she’s a mixture of confused and shocked and is almost certain she’s having a dream before her feet hit the pavement. He offers her a hand that she takes and allows him to pull her out of the car, that secure arm going around her waist to guide her inside.

Beth waits for the other shoe to drop, even as they go inside, take the elevator up and pause outside his door while he unlocks it. He lets her walk in first, making sure the light’s on and she briefly thinks about how odd it is to walk through his front door instead of the fire escape. Everything is how she remembers it from the one time she was here, a soft ache in her chest about how they left it.

She pushes that away as quickly as it appears, focusing on taking her shoes off by the front door. Beth takes a long look around, mostly because she has a moment to do it compared to last time and is still swept away by how beautiful it all is. Rustic and thoughtful and accents of design that she didn’t know were Rio until she saw them; like pottery and smudge paintings and a lot more plants that she wonders if he’s taking care of properly.

“You want somethin’ to eat?” He asks and his voice is somehow softer in this space, more hesitant maybe.

She turns to look at him, a groan leaving her lips at the thought. “No. If I eat something else I’m going to become a mozzarella stick.”

His eyebrows scrunch together in confusion but he laughs, “Alright, fair enough.” His hands fall to her hips, gently pushing her in the direction of his bedroom. “Let’s get you in bed then, yeah?”

Beth turns so that she’s not walking backwards, though her back definitely hits his chest as they walk and he presses up against her, arms winding around her waist. “I think that’s the nicest way you’ve ever asked me to bed with you.”

His chest vibrates as he replies, “Well in my defense, there’s usually less talkin’ involved.”

She sits on the left side of the bed after he pulls the covers down, her hand falling to the edge of his nightstand as her eyes find a photograph of Rio and Marcus at the park. She smiles gently at them and remembers that she knocked this over the last time she was here. She wonders if he had to replace the picture frame.

Beth takes her wallet out of her pants, setting it on the nightstand and he mimics the movement by taking her phone out of his back pocket to put beside it. She probably has messages, maybe even a video from Ruby of Annie attempting to table dance, but the last thing she wants to do is look at the screen.

She picks it up to text Ruby and Annie, very quickly, that she made it safely back because Rio gave her a ride—and pointedly ignores Annie texting back an eggplant emoji. She puts the phone on the nightstand again, face down, and slips her mustard colored sweater over her head. Her hair fans along her shoulders in a static rush and she’s glad she has on a sports bra because it’s black, soft and comfortable.

Rio takes her sweater and tosses it onto a small recliner, moving past her to walk into his closet. She listens to him and yawns, eyes lazily tracing over a plant that resembles a small tree in a metal pot not too far away.

“Do you name your plants?” She asks him and for a few moments he doesn’t reply to her.

When he walks back out of the closet, he’s dressed in black joggers and a white t-shirt, her mouth opening a little because she’s never seen him so relaxed. And this is compared to the times she’s seen him naked or just in briefs. He has a gray t-shirt in his hands, she recognizes it from being in his closet, running her fingers over it and being amazed at how soft it was.

“Do I look like a guy who names plants to you?” Rio asks back, before motioning to her, “Arms up.”

She complies, allowing him to tug the shirt on over her head, her arms slipping through the appropriate holes. She takes a moment to breathe him in, laundry detergent almost overwhelming as the material settles against her skin.

“Gets cold in here at night.” He says, brushing her hair out from under the collar.

“I’m just saying, naming plants never hurts. It encourages you to talk to them and that helps them grow.”

Rio smiles and shakes his head, looking over his shoulder at the one she’s been referring to, “That’s plastic, sweetheart.” Then chuckles at her pouting disappointment, “I’ll let you know if I change my mind about my succulents.”

Beth pulls back to crawl into his bed, wondering if this is the side he sleeps on, pressing her face into the pillow and picking up hints of his skin, the body wash he uses.

“Bed’s yours.” He tells her and he moves to turn off the nightstand lamp.

She reaches for his wrist, making him pause, “Are you sleeping somewhere else?”

Rio looks down at her, disentangling himself with a soft squeeze, “Want me to?”

Beth shakes her head no to which he leans down and presses the softest of kisses against her forehead, the room diving into darkness. Before she can even feel the weight of him getting in on the other side of the bed, she’s asleep.

\--

She’s not sure what wakes her first: the splitting headache or the smell of bacon. Either way, she rolls a little onto her back, her hand coming up to cover her face, pinching the bridge of her nose before she slowly opens her eyes. She’s met with a high ceiling of exposed brick, her eyebrows scrunching together because…

Oh, that’s right, she’s not at home.

The good news, if there’s any at this point with her hangover, is that she doesn’t feel nauseous. She lets out a slow breath and closes her eyes again so she can concentrate, sitting up against the headboard—she distantly wonders if this splitting headache will kill her.

When she feels strong enough to open her eyes, she’s met with wide curious brown ones and a goofy grin.

“Do you like waffles?”

She opens and closes her mouth at Marcus because for some reason he’s the last person she expected to see. He’s got dinosaur pajamas on and she really wonders if he was here the whole night or if he just showed up this morning.

Beth doesn’t have a chance to reply because Rio comes up behind his son and picks him up, “What’d I tell you about botherin’ Ms. Beth, pop?”

She quickly shakes her head, her voice still rough with sleep as she says, “No, he’s okay. There was a very important question about waffles.”

Marcus looks a little sheepish, his eyes glancing at Rio for permission before he speaks again. He nods his head, his other hand ruffling up already bedhead hair. “My dad said you were sick.”

She smiles softly, trying her best not to look as terrible as she feels. She runs a hand through her hair, “Nothing some orange juice can’t cure. You have any?”

He nods his head as Rio puts him back onto the floor, “Go get her some, yeah? Make sure you close the fridge.”

Marcus takes off at a run, rounding the couch and disappearing behind the kitchen counter to get her orange juice. She offers a small smile up at Rio, who sits on the bed next to her thigh, his hand cupping the side of her neck.

“Not good, hmm?”

Beth closes her eyes a moment and shakes her head; is she really that obvious? It must be plain on her face…but then again, Rio always did have any easy time reading her. He puts pressure with his thumb on her collarbone.

“He didn’t wake you, did he?” He asks, small circles moving to the back of her neck. “I couldn’t keep him from checkin’ on you.”

She shakes her head, that same smile staying on her face. It warms her from her toes up at the thought that Marcus is somehow just as concerned about her as his father tends to be. “No, really, my headache woke me. He’s alright.” She licks her lips, eyes tracing over his face.

The morning sun kisses his skin golden and part of her wants nothing more than to lean up into his chest and hide there until she feels more like herself.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your day with him.”

“Nah, you didn’t,” His hand falls as he turns to look over his shoulder when Marcus makes his way back from the kitchen, fast paced steps but very careful not to spill any orange juice.

“Here you go, Ms. Beth.” He smiles up at her, clearly very proud of himself and Rio’s hand comes down to rest along his shoulders as she takes the glass from him.

“Thank you.” She takes a small sip, curling her hair around her ear. “So waffles, huh?”

Marcus nods his head enthusiastically, “I have a waffle iron that makes dino shapes, Triceratops and T-Rexes mostly. You have to stay and have some.”

Sounds like very serious business and Beth smiles around the rim of her cup, glancing at Rio a moment to find him watching her. His gaze is open and warm, not expectant just…comfortable. So when she’s sure he’s not trying to usher her out she nods, looking down at Marcus before setting the orange juice on the bedside table.

“Well, how can I say no to that?” She asks.

Rio chews on his lower lip, “Go get the iron out,” he turns him in the direction of the kitchen, “Batter will be ready soon. Do _not_ plug anythin’ in, you hear me?”

“Yes dad!”

Beth watches him run back to the kitchen, wincing a little when he opens up a cabinet with a bang. His hand moves to brush his thumb over the crinkled lines of her forehead, “I’ll get you some aspirin.” He pauses a moment, looking over his shoulder at Marcus in the kitchen before meeting her gaze, “I can take you home if you can’t stay for breakfast.”

She appreciates the offer out, really she does, and she should probably check her phone to see if Dean’s left her any messages. At this point he probably assumed that she spent the night at Annie’s and is asking about the French toast egg to milk ratio that doesn’t exist. She should look but she doesn’t want to, so she doesn’t. She knows he’ll figure it out and take care of making sure the kids get to their various obligations…staying for breakfast won’t hurt.

“And crush that little face in there? I don’t think so.” She scoffs a little, picking her hand up to squeeze his wrist. “We’re going to have an in-depth discussion about my disappointment that there’s no pterodactyl shapes though.”

Rio smiles, shaking his head, “As long as it’s not about namin’ any more of my plants, I’m ready to listen.” He brushes his thumb over her lower lip before he stands, making his way into the kitchen.

Beth leans back against the headboard and watches him rifle through a cabinet for aspirin, picking Marcus up to sit him on the counter and laugh as his son says something. The sound settles heavily in her stomach and she suddenly hates how much this feels like home.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I loved doing something warm and lighthearted after all the trauma I put my girl through ;) you know what they say about characters: make them suffer. That last line isn’t to say that Beth doesn’t feel like she’s at home with her own kids but I think I wanted her to realize that domestic!Rio is a big yes. Thanks for taking the time to read and if you leave kudos or a review! I’m always available to chat and take prompts at my tumblr: blainesebastian.tumblr.com/ask


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